


These blenches gave my heart another youth

by chocoleche



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling Out of Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, One-Sided Attraction, Out Of Character Bokuto, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Assault, trans!Akaashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 01:03:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocoleche/pseuds/chocoleche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ The title is a verse from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 110. It means “The act of turning away from you rejuvenated me.” ]</p><p>Once upon a time, Akaashi Keiji found himself falling in love. Now that a couple of years have gone by and the adversities of the adult world beat down on him, he realizes that maybe his feelings weren’t as strong as he thought. Spiralling out of love is a one-way journey and he can’t seem to stop the momentum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These blenches gave my heart another youth

**Author's Note:**

> Get ready for a bunch of notes lmao.
> 
> 1\. First of all, this is the un-proofread, un-edited, raw version. If you see any mistakes, please point them out in the comments and I will do my best to fix them.
> 
> 2\. Trigger warning for sexual assault/rape near the end. It's nothing TOO graphic, but I will mark the part where it starts so you can skip it and continue with the rest of the story if you'd rather not read it. 
> 
> 3\. This story in no way reflects my opinions on Bokuto's character. I am actually quite fond of him, but--for plot's sake--I had to make him an asshole. My apologies. 
> 
> 4\. If you can't tell by reading the story, Akaashi is a trans male in this. I have little experience with this, but I hope I could do them justice.
> 
> 5\. I've been working on this baby for a whole week now, I'm surprised even with myself. I started writing it at a time when I was very emotional, and I hope I can convey at least a bit of what I was feeling. 
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy these sad BokuAkas.

The first strike came unexpectedly soon. It was a Friday afternoon, Akaashi remembered perfectly. The week before mid-term exams. Through lots of begging and something short of a miracle, he had managed to convince his parents to let him go out on a date with his boyfriend that night. It hadn’t been easy—Akaashi’s parents insisted that he start studying that very Friday, since he was already a third-year and couldn’t let his relationship compromise his studies. But Akaashi promised that he’d start as soon as he got back home, and used his current grades to prove that even though he’d been seeing Bokuto for 6 months now, nothing had changed. 

“Seeing,” he had laughed bitterly to his insides. He barely ever actually saw his boyfriend. Granted it was hard to see each other frequently, since Bokuto was no longer at school and his university was slightly far away, and Akaashi was focused on studying for his own upper education entrance exams, aside from the promise Bokuto had made him take before the school year started. “Promise me you will live your last year of high school to the fullest,” he had said. And Akaashi was really trying, but getting used to being apart from Bokuto was hard. 

Sure, they would text each other every day, and Skype during weekends, but the frequency of those encounters had been decreasing as the months went by. Bokuto always had some kind of college activity, whether it was a party or a study session or anything else college kids did. Seeing his Story on Snapchat always made Akaashi feel jealous. He saw his boyfriend having fun and enjoying his life with a bunch of people Akaashi had never seen in his life (nor had been introduced to) in a world that he clearly didn’t belong to. When he’d sit alone in his room watching movies in the dark, knowing Bokuto was somewhere out there getting drunk and just overall being wild and youthful, he’d wonder if Bokuto knew how he felt. Of course he didn’t want to make him feel guilty, but he wouldn’t mind receiving some attention from time to time. Both knew it wouldn’t be a walk in the park when they had started dating.

But Akaashi never imagined something like this could happen. 

It was Friday night, three days after the date of their 7th month as a couple. Akaashi had saved up money throughout the year to eat out at a fancy restaurant, and he had made the reservation three weeks ago. They were supposed to meet at that Italian restaurant Bokuto always said he wished he could go to at 6:45 P.M. It was already 8, and Akaashi sat in his living room staring at his phone. He couldn’t get Bokuto to pick up, despite his many calls all afternoon. Akaashi started to worry and pace in frustration. At 8:30, his parents came into the room and told him it was late. Akaashi pleaded that he only needed a couple more minutes, but they remained firm in their decision to not let him go out anymore. Akaashi went to his room and screamed into his pillow, angry tears sliding down his face and broken sobs leaving his lips. He cursed Bokuto, then felt bad about it, then went back to trying to call him. He never picked up. 

Akaashi didn’t sleep that night, pathetically waiting for Bokuto to somehow come knocking on his window with a bouquet of roses and McDonald’s take out. Evidently, that never happened. What did happen—at around 11 P.M.—was Akaashi receiving 20 messages: all pictures of Bokuto with different girls at some party in some bar with multiple colourful beverages. And that’s when he knew he had to throw his phone into a drawer and not see it again for at least 12 hours or he would throw a fit of rage and end up breaking it. He needed a distraction. Like any other teenager with a libido, his first thought was masturbation. With the help of the Internet, Akaashi got his hands on some quality smut stories, the kind middle-aged suburban moms talked about when they got together. He went at it for a few minutes, before remembering Bokuto and crying again. Touching himself was not the answer, he concluded.

He built a pillow fort on his bed and hid inside with his laptop, blasting sad songs on his earphones and hugging his knees to his chest. He cried some more and then settled for texting Kenma, hoping he was awake. 

“Good night, Kenma. I really hope you’re awake right now because I could use some advice. Sorry to be a bother.”

He got a reply almost immediately. He thanked the heaven’s that Kenma was always glued to his phone.

“I’m here, what’s up?”

“How do you manage to have such a steady long-distance relationship?”

“Mmm well, it’s not easy. I guess Shouyo and I are just used to it by now. It has a lot to do with patience, you have to think of the time you’ll actually get to be together and focus on that.”

“I see… And what if, hypothetically speaking, your significant other forgot or disregarded that one opportunity you had to be together?”

This time, Kenma took his time thinking of an answer.

“I would ask them what the relationship means to them and if they take it seriously. What happens next will depend on their answer.”

Akaashi then thanked him and wished him good night, letting his phone slide down his arm and into the bed. With a sigh, he removed his binder and lied down, hoping his mind would allow him sleep. 

He tossed and turned, unable to reach that much desired state of unconsciousness, until the first rays of morning sunshine started seeping in through his bedroom windows. He laid in bed for hours and hours, pretending to be asleep when his parents came knocking, alerting him that breakfast was ready. Well into noon, he finally got the call. Akaashi’s stomach churned when he saw his name flash on the screen of the device, picking up before the second ring. “Hello?” he said, his voice hoarse and lips dry.

“Yo, Akaashi, what’s up? You called me like a million times yesterday. My phone’s battery died at like, midnight, though,” said Bokuto, yawning between sentences. 

Akaashi’s heart sank. He felt like throwing up. “Y-Yesterday,” his voice trembled, “we were supposed to have dinner together.”

Realization hit Bokuto after a few seconds, followed by a lengthy string of curses. “Oh my fucking god, Akaashi, I am so sorry. I totally forgot about our date, I’m the absolute worst. I’m sorry I’m calling you so late, I just woke up. Dude, last night was crazy, I got so drunk. It was a friend’s birthday party and he treated us to drinks at this really cool bar and—“

“Bokuto-san.”

“Right, sorry. Anyways, I’ll totally make it up to you, whenever you’re free again. Again, I’m so sorry, Akaashi. You deserve better, I feel terrible.”

And that was all it took. Akaashi, naive and inexperienced, forgave him. Bokuto was too good for him, he figured, too good to let go over something so silly. 17-year-old Akaashi Keiji was stupid and didn’t know better, didn’t know he did not have to stand that kind of behaviour. So he just forgave his boyfriend and convinced himself he was just over-reacting, even if his heartache endured. That weekend, while he studied for his exams, he daydreamed about Bokuto appearing on his front door with a box of chocolates and a pair of kites, ready to take him to the park for a relaxing afternoon picnic. He’d promised he would make it up to him, so Akaashi believed him. Bokuto never did come for him, though. 

In the end, it was Akaashi who had to go to him. 

 

***

 

The second strike came a year afterward. By some miracle—or rather, by Akaashi just putting up with whatever crap Bokuto pulled on him this time—they had managed to stay together until Akaashi graduated high school and moved in together with Bokuto, ready to attend the same university his boyfriend had gotten into. Their apartment was a bit cramped since Akaashi had moved in, and as a result, always untidy. This upset Akaashi greatly, and he always did his best to clean up while Bokuto was gone, but as soon as he would come back, the mess would return with twice the intensity. It had only been a month, but college life was already treating Akaashi harshly. Of all things, he had to choose Law. He had tons and tons of homework every week, piles of books pending to read, and, on average, he slept 4 hours a day because Bokuto always came home late and would keep him awake for an hour before he went to sleep. His life right now certainly wasn’t easy, but he was hoping the misery would only be temporary. 

One day, Bokuto came home sooner than usual, and Akaashi’s gut feeling told him something wasn’t okay. It was 5:20 P.M. when the disgusting smell of marijuana hit his nostrils, making him retch. He rushed to the kitchen, where he knew he would find his boyfriend.

“Koutarou, care to explain why the hell do you reek of pot?” he asked in an alarmed tone, covering his nose and making a face. 

The other man took his head out of the refrigerator, looking around for the source of the voice, and when he was able to focus on Akaashi, he grinned. “Hey hey hey, babe,” he slurred, sticking a slice of cold, leftover pizza into his mouth. 

Akaashi clenched his fists. “Answer me. Why were you smoking weed?” 

Bokuto rolled his eyes, his hand gestures and body posture exaggerated. “Well, it’s cool. And a thing I’m starting to like. Duh.”

Akaashi groaned in frustration, biting his lip and furrowing his brow. “I don’t like this,” he finally said. “I really don’t think this is good for you.”

“Oh, come on, Keiji. Please. Don’t be such a pussy, it’s nothing.” He approached Akaashi, trying to wrap his hands around him. But Akaashi retreated, extending his hand between the two. 

“Do not come closer until you wash off that awful stench, you’re making me sick.” 

Bokuto did not take this well. “For fuck’s sake, Keiji! It’s just a thing to pass the time. I don’t say anything about your weird-ass hobbies!”

“What weird-ass hobbies?!” Akaashi said, raising his tone of voice, indignant and offended. 

“Well, for starters, there’s your fucking knitting! I mean, that’s just so fucking gay, Keiji,” Bokuto said, taking a step forward.

Akaashi’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?” He mimicked Bokuto’s posture and took two steps forward, meeting him half-way. He was now glaring directly at him, not breaking eye contact. There were a million things wrong with Bokuto’s last sentence, and Akaashi wanted to shout at him all the reasons why through a megaphone. “I don’t know if your brain’s been fried already from all those drugs, but you are in a homosexual relationship, and have been for quite some time now.”

Bokuto threw his hands up in exasperation. “But you don’t count! You’re special!”

Akaashi gasped, his expression that of utter shock. He couldn’t believe those vile words, more violent than a sucker punch, had just come out of his boyfriend’s mouth. He was too angry and too hurt to even point out the fact Bokuto was contradicting himself by demanding Akaashi abide by the bullshit expectations of hyper-masculinity imposed by a sexist society—but at the same time not acknowledging him as a man. 

By the face Bokuto made, Akaashi must have given him a look that he had never seen before. “Shit, Akaashi, I didn’t mean—“

His empty apology was meaningless after Akaashi slammed the door. He left the apartment in a rush, not even taking his wallet with him. Akaashi ran. Aimlessly at first, but then settled on taking a taxi to visit his parents. He knew he couldn’t talk to them about this particular problem, since he still wasn’t out to them, but he felt like he had never needed their affection as much as he did now. So he gave them a call and headed there, turning off his phone afterwards so as to not receive any calls from Bokuto. 

In the end, a few hours later, he came home—home to that messy little apartment and to that messy boyfriend he always seemed to forgive and to that shirt of his Akaashi loved so much but that now smelled of despair. 

 

***

 

The first semester ended really quickly, Akaashi thought. He had made it through somehow, and even had close friends now. It felt nice, being invited to things, belonging to a group of people who understood him and whom he could be himself with. Bokuto was leaving on a trip with his family to Hokkaido the whole break, something Akaashi was grateful for, even if he denied it to himself. Lately, his boyfriend had been too clingy, wanting to know where he was all the time and inviting himself into his affairs. It was really annoying, and it was taking a toll on Akaashi’s emotional stability. 

Much to Akaashi’s surprise, Kuroo was also there when he went to bid farewell to his boyfriend and his family at the airport. When Bokuto saw him, he ran up to Akaashi and hugged him tightly, picking him up and twirling him around a few times. “Oh, Keiji, thank you so much for coming! Agh, I’m gonna miss you so much!” Bokuto said, showering Akaashi’s face with kisses. Akaashi blushed, trying to hide his face behind his hands. 

“Koutarou, not in public…” he half-hissed, appreciating the affection but being unable to fully enjoy it because he wasn’t comfortable. 

Bokuto set him down then, giving him some space. “Sorry, sorry… My bad.” He grinned cheerfully at Akaashi. “You know I love you, right?”

Akaashi couldn’t hold back a shy smile. His cheeks still tinged red, he looked down to the side and nodded. “I think everyone in the airport knows that after that greeting,” he chuckled quietly. Akaashi took his boyfriend’s hand into his, and Bokuto took this as a sign to guide them back to where his family and Kuroo stood. Akaashi and Kuroo made eye contact and greeted each other with a simple nod of the head in acknowledgement of each other. They respected each other very much, but it wasn’t as if they had ever been close. 

The family and the two guests shared some words before it was time for them to leave and catch their plane. Akaashi envied how easily Kuroo spoke to Bokuto’s parents—they seemed awfully comfortable with each other, while Akaashi couldn’t get out of the polite-yet-impersonal stage. After Bokuto and Kuroo hugged, he pulled Akaashi aside and behind a wall, so as to have a little more privacy. Bokuto smiled sweetly. “I’m gonna miss you a lot, Keiji,” he whispered, “I’ll make sure to bring you back a cool souvenir. 

Akaashi’s eyes watered slightly. To him, Bokuto looked far more mature than he actually was and incredibly handsome in that moment, when he was being so sincere and honest. He couldn’t speak; he knew if he did, he’d end up crying. 

Bokuto noticed this and took Akaashi’s face gently into his hands, planting soft kisses over his eyelids. “Don’t be sad, I’ll be back soon.”

Akaashi shook his head. “I’m not sad,” he said, his voice breaking and betraying him, “just a little overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?” the other man chuckled, “By what?”

Akaashi looked into his boyfriend’s eyes, memorizing every little detail of his face for when he started missing him at night. “You,” he breathed out, reaching forward to hold the back of Bokuto’s neck in his hand, kissing him. It was a cute, chaste, closed-mouth kiss, but it made Akaashi’s toes tingle. Bokuto smiled into the kiss, wrapping his strong arms around Akaashi’s waist and pulling him closer. They stayed that way for a whole minute (Akaashi was counting in his head), breathing through their noses so there was no need to pull away. Then, they walked back, holding hands.

Once the family was gone and Kuroo and Akaashi were the only ones left, Akaashi got a call. It was the director of the play he was going to participate in, calling to remind him that they had practice in an hour and that they would have practice the whole first week of break. When Akaashi hung up, he cursed under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Kuroo asked, turning to him when he noticed the sour face he was making. 

Akaashi shook his head. “It’s nothing, I’m just running on a tight schedule.”

Kuroo arched an eyebrow. “Do you need to be anywhere right now?”

With a sigh, he spilled the beans. “I got the lead in this play and we have practice in an hour, but I totally forgot and I’ll never make it back in time without a car. Also, I haven’t had lunch yet. I don’t know what to do, I can’t afford a taxi at the moment.”

Kuroo smiled a wicked smile. “You know… I could totally take you, if you want.” He said those words in a sing-song voice, raising Akaashi’s suspicion. He narrowed his eyes at Kuroo.

“Why would you help me?”

“Out of the goodness of my heart, of course.”

Akaashi accidentally snorted. “What ‘heart’?” He quickly put a hand over his mouth, embarrassed for having made such a weird noise.

Kuroo’s grin widened as he put his hand over his chest in mock hurt. “Wow, rude. Who knew quiet, little Akaashi would be so mean?”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Please.”

Kuroo cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ll drive you to your practice… On the condition that you take me on a romantic date for lunch. How’s that sound, theatre boy?”

Akaashi couldn’t hold back his small, shy smile. “Sounds like a plan. Thank you, really.”

“No problem,” Kuroo added with a wink.

Akaashi really was at a loss when it came to Kuroo Tetsurou and his magical ability to make people comfortable with him so easily. He carried an air of familiarity around him that instantly made you feel like you had known the guy for years. Although, in Akaashi’s case, he technically had. And even then, he didn’t know much about Kuroo. That man was truly a mystery, which both intrigued and scared Akaashi.   
They walked side by side back to Kuroo’s car, talking about Akaashi’s play, since Kuroo was curious.

“You know, I didn’t take you for the type to be an actor. You’re always so reserved,” the taller man commented. 

“And I didn’t take you for the type to take other people’s boyfriends out on dates, but I guess we were both wrong,” Akaashi said with a smirk, snickering.

“Touché.”

All through the car ride, Akaashi sneaked secret glances at Kuroo. 

 

***

 

“Akaashi? Are you listening?”

The man in question blinked, having zoned out, staring into space. “Hm?”

Kuroo frowned, looking worried. “I was talking about Bokuto’s indoor-ski trip.”

“Ah,” was all Akaashi could say, having absolutely no clue what Kuroo was talking about. 

The other clearly noticed. “He… didn’t tell you?”

“Bokuto and I haven’t really spoken in a while,” Akaashi confessed in a matter-of-fact way, not meeting Kuroo’s eyes and busying himself with some pesky task like picking at his nails.

But the other man rested his head down on Akaashi’s lap, looking up at him with a concerned expression. “Is that why you always seem distracted and uninterested when I bring him up? Did you guys fight or anything?”

Akaashi leaned his head back, anything to avoid Kuroo’s scrutinizing gaze. Anything to prevent Kuroo from becoming aware of how Akaashi’s pulse raced everytime he looked at him, anything to skirt around that nagging feeling of guilt in the back of his mind. Truth was, Akaashi did not miss Bokuto. It was quite easy, actually, living without him. Much more calm and peaceful and drama-free. He didn’t feel lonely either, not when he had Kuroo, much less when he was practically living in his apartment these past weeks. Over the course of the summer, they had quickly grown close, and at some point Akaashi started inviting himself to sleep over at Kuroo’s place, under the pretext that he didn’t want to annoy his parents by coming back home (truth) and that his and Bokuto’s apartment was way too big for a single person, anyway (lie). They were currently sitting on the couch in Kuroo’s apartment, Akaashi’s laptop playing a movie that had long been abandoned by the pair. Bokuto would be back the next day, so Akaashi wanted to truly make good use of the time he had left alone with Kuroo. He rejoiced in the fact that Kuroo paid so much attention to him, and that they had the apartment to themselves—Yaku, Kuroo’s roommate, having gone back home for the summer. 

He did not dignify Kuroo’s question with an answer. Instead, he changed the subject. “Hey, don’t you want to run some lines with me?”

Kuroo still looked suspicious of Akaashi, but took his reply as a sign that he didn’t want to talk about it and didn’t pry any further. He stood up and went to the kitchen to fetch some water while Akaashi rummaged through his backpack for the script. Akaashi really appreciated that about Kuroo; he knew when to leave things alone. 

The pair sat on the floor this time, facing each other, Kuroo reading off Akaashi’s script and Akaashi reciting his lines from memory. They reached a point where Akaashi’s character had to steal a kiss from the character Kuroo was playing, and he felt his hands starting to sweat. Should he actually do it? Did he actually want to? 

During all the rehearsals so far, the kiss had been staged, meaning his lips hadn’t really touched that other girl’s lips. The director said it would have to be a real kiss later, but Akaashi had never given it much thought. It was, after all, just pressing a body part to someone else’s. No big deal. But with Kuroo, things felt… different.

“Then comes the kiss, blah blah blah,” Kuroo absentmindedly said, flipping the page to continue with the next part.

“Wait,” Akaashi caught himself exclaiming and putting a hand over Kuroo’s to stop his action.

The older man looked up. “What?”

Akaashi’s face heated up, his eyes wide in panic and his mouth hanging open but no words coming out. 

Kuroo chuckled. “What? You wanna practice the kiss?” he said teasingly, but it sent Akaashi’s mind into overdrive. 

Akaashi covered his face with his hands. 

“Oh, don’t worry, man. I’m sure you’re a good kisser, you don’t need practice—“

“How could you know?” Akaashi said boldly, raising his head to look into Kuroo’s eyes, daring him, provoking him.

Kuroo noticed Akaashi’s super intense gaze and settled on teaching him a little lesson. His expression changed from laid-back to that of a predator. He licked his lips and, in an unexpected motion, leaned forward all the way until he was a few centimeters away from Akaashi’s face. He heard the younger man’s small, choked gasp and could see his bottom lip tremble. Kuroo smirked, slowly moving his head so he could whisper in his ear. 

“Bros don’t kiss other bros’ boyfriends.”

Akaashi pushed him away forcefully, getting up in a hurry and locking himself in the bathroom. He heard Kuroo calling for him. Akaashi opened the faucet, splashing cold water on his face and looking at himself in the mirror. 

“Pathetic,” he thought upon seeing his flushed, messy self. 

Kuroo knocked on the door. “Hey, Akaashi? Are you okay? Man, I’m really sorry, I think I went too far.”

Akaashi broke down crying, clutching his chest, where his heart was beating so fast and so hard he could feel his pulse in his ears. He made sure to keep his sobs quiet as he pressed his back against the door and slid down onto the floor. 

“You wanted him to kiss you,” he mentally accused himself, “You almost cheated on your boyfriend.” But the most dreadful of revelations was: he might have a crush on Kuroo Tetsurou, his boyfriend’s best friend. 

 

***

 

[ WARNING: IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE OR TRIGGERED BY SEXUAL VIOLENCE/NON-CONSENSUAL SEX/RAPE, SKIP THIS PART AND GO TO THE NEXT ***. Basically, Bokuto got really drunk, bad things happened, Akaashi went to a store to buy a morning-after pill, and then headed to Kuroo's. ]

The third, and final strike, was something out of a horror movie, the kind of thing you see all the time but never actually stop to consider it could happen to you.

The first thing Bokuto did when he got back was kiss Akaashi for like, 10 minutes straight. The second thing he did was call some friends and go out to party. Akaashi refused his offer to come with, choosing to stay home. With a sigh, he started unpacking Bokuto’s bag, throwing his dirty clothes in the washing machine and putting away the clean ones. He knew Bokuto wasn’t going to do it anytime soon, and he also didn’t really mind doing their laundry, so he figured it was best to get it over with. He then sat down on the bed and fell asleep reading a book.

Akaashi woke up startled to the sound of the front door slamming. It took him few seconds to process it was probably Bokuto coming home from the bar or wherever he’d been. Akaashi stood up, putting his book away. He was headed for the bathroom when Bokuto spotted him. 

“Keijiii,” he slurred, stumbling as he made his way into the bedroom. 

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “At this rate, you’re going to become an alcoholic. What’s so fun about getting smashed anyway?” 

But Bokuto didn’t listen to him. He picked him up in a big hug, spun him around a few times, and dropped him on the bed. Akaashi was tempted to laugh at his boyfriend’s silly antics, but the feeling faded when Bokuto took his shirt off. Then it melted into confusion. “What—“

Bokuto crawled on the bed until he was on top of Akaashi, hugging him tightly—a bit too much—and planting kisses on his neck. “I fucking want you so bad, K,” he said, wiggling his way into the space between Akaashi’s legs. 

Akaashi frowned. “Koutarou, you’re drunk. And we’ve been over this.” He struggled against Bokuto’s strong arms to set himself free, but to no avail. The other was clearly stronger than him. 

Akaashi squeaked when he felt a hand on his stomach, making its way up his shirt. “Wait, don’t—“ But his breath caught in his throat when Bokuto’s fingers brushed against his bare nipple (since he rarely used his binder at home). Bokuto let out a low-pitched giggle, squeezing Akaashi’s small breast in his hand and shifting so he was now sloppily kissing him. 

Bokuto tasted of booze and arousal, and Akaashi was starting to panic. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t made out before, but Akaashi wasn’t confident about his body enough to have sex yet. And in this particular instance, he didn’t want anything to do with a drunk Bokuto, he wanted his loving and tender sober boyfriend. 

Akaashi could feel Bokuto’s erection rubbing against his leg when the hand over his breast went to unzip his pants. Akaashi scrunched up his face, moving it to the side so he could escape Bokuto’s mouth. But the other just settled on kissing Akaashi’s ears and neck, one time biting down hard on his shoulder, causing him to flinch and cry out. “Koutarou, enough! I don’t want—“

Bokuto was now holding Akaashi down by the neck, using his free hand to slide down Akaashi’s shorts and boxers. Akaashi’s eyes filled with tears as the cool air hit his crotch. He didn’t want this—not like this, not now. 

He clawed at the arm over his throat, trying in a weak effort to free himself. But Bokuto wasn’t having it. When he was done fumbling with his pants, he spit on that hand and smeared it all over Akaashi’s entrance. Akaashi cringed at the gross, wet feeling of someone else’s saliva on his most intimate parts, but was unable to make any audible sounds of protest, since Bokuto’s weight was starting to suffocate him, coupled with the fact he still had his hand over his neck. Akaashi felt dizzy, and was secretly praying he would pass out so he wouldn’t have to endure through any of this. He knew it was inevitable, but at the very least, his being unconscious would make it less painful. 

Bokuto then let go of Akaashi’s neck, pressing him down with his chest and going in for another open-mouth kiss. Every centimetre of Akaashi’s skin felt filthy and disgusting, to the point that he desperately wanted to remove all of it with only his fingernails. 

In one way-too-coordinated-for-a-drunkard motion, Bokuto used one hand to pin both of Akaashi’s arms over his head, holding him down by the wrists, and the other to push his dick into Akaashi’s entrance. He cried out loudly, biting the inside of his cheek as he winced. Tears were spilling down his cheeks and into the bedsheets as the other man thrust into him. Once, twice, slowly, then fast. The pain, mixed with the feeling of being penetrated, made Akaashi’s head spin. He felt dizzy and sick to his stomach, and everything from his hips down hurt like crazy. It was the kind of pain you feel when you get cut, as well as the pain you feel when you press down on a bruise. He turned his head to the left and caught his reflection on the mirror of the vanity. Torn, messed up, powerless Akaashi, still clothed and crying.

Fortunately, it didn’t last long. Almost 5 minutes, Akaashi thought, since he had been counting. It had been the only way for him not to completely break. He had distracted himself, thinking of a happy, warm, safe place and counting the seconds that passed. Bokuto climaxed inside him, and the hot liquid dripped down Akaashi’s right thigh. With a groan, Bokuto rolled on his side and promptly fell asleep, releasing his victim. 

Akaashi scurried off from the bed and into the bathroom, every part of his body aching at the slightest movement. He kneeled by the toilet and threw up violently, to the point were his eyes ended up bloodshot and a shiny trail of fresh blood oozed from his nose. When he was done emptying his stomach, he made the mistake of looking down at his legs. Semen, both liquid and hardened remains, was still all over his thighs and the lower part of his ass. It was then that things clicked and panic started bubbling up inside him. Running solely on adrenaline, his sore and damaged body collected a new set of clothes, a large coat, and boots, donning them as soon as possible. He picked up his wallet, phone, and keys from his bedside table and left the apartment. 

Akaashi practically ran to the nearest store that was open 24 hours, hoping they would have what he was looking for. Upon arriving, he asked the old woman behind the counter if they sold morning-after pills. She eyed up Akaashi, quietly saying “yes” before shifting through some things inside a cabinet. She handed him the desired product and Akaashi payed. He walked out the store, holding back the urge to cry. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. 

Akaashi then took out his phone and dialled Kuroo on instinct. He only registered what he had done when he heard Kuroo’s sleepy voice from the other end.

“Hello?”

Akaashi took a deep breath to steady himself, but still his voice broke. “Kuroo, it’s Keiji. Can I come over? It’s important.”

Kuroo must have picked up on Akaashi’s emotional state, because he was suddenly very awake and worried. “Sure, sure, what’s wrong? What happened?”

But Akaashi hung up then, sobs overflowing from his lips. He put his hands in his pockets and made his way to Kuroo’s apartment. 

 

***

 

If you asked Kuroo Tetsurou if he was ready to see a rain-soaked Akaashi outside his front door at 2 in the morning, he’d have said no. Especially since his eyes were puffy and red and he was sporting a disgustingly sweet fake smile that did not suit his face at all. He looked tired beyond his years, and defeated in every possible sense of the word. “Hey,” he whispered, black, wet hair matted to this forehead and cheeks. 

“Akaashi, what the fuck— Why didn’t you bring an umbrella?” Kuroo hadn’t noticed it had started to rain a while ago. 

Akaashi didn’t answer. Kuroo made sounds of dissatisfaction and ushered his guest inside. “Get in the shower right now, I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

Akaashi walked listlessly to the bathroom. Once inside, he undressed and threw his wet clothes on the floor. He took out the pill from his pocket and put it inside his mouth, swallowing it with the help of some water from the sink. Then he stepped into the shower, where the hot water seemed to melt his troubles away. He didn’t even scrub nor wash his body, he just stood under the shower-head, idle. 

Akaashi was taking too long in the shower, Kuroo thought, so he knocked on the door. “Oi, you okay?” He got no answer, so he opened the door. It took his brain several seconds to sort out the details of the image in front of him. 

Akaashi was naked, standing outside the shower, and reaching for a towel to dry off. But his body was different from what Kuroo had imagined. “Oh fuck, sorry,” he exclaimed, closing the door behind him, his heart pounding. 

He walked over to his bed and sat down, resting his head in his hands. Akaashi came out shortly, Kuroo’s blue towel wrapped around his lithe figure. Kuroo couldn’t look at him. 

“Tetsurou,” he heard Akaashi call, and he lifted his head then, surprised he had used his first name. Akaashi looked less like shit now, but still pretty bad. He had a small, sad smile on his face. Gingerly, he let the towel fall to the floor. Kuroo instantly looked away, but Akaashi begged him not to. “It’s fine, really. I would eventually tell you.”

Kuroo looked at him, but focused his gaze on Akaashi’s face, resisting the temptation to look at the rest of him. “So you’re…” he trailed off so Akaashi would fill in the blank.

“I’m a man, just like you. We come in all shapes and sizes, right?”

Kuroo nodded fervently, afraid he would fuck up and hurt Akaashi’s feelings. This was foreign territory for him, and he wanted to do his best to understand and be supportive. 

“Can I expect that you won’t treat me differently?” asked Akaashi, walking closer to Kuroo, who stood up with a jolt. 

He took a deep breath to dissolve the embarrassment keeping him from acting normally. Kuroo took Akaashi’s hand and looked him in the eye. “Absolutely,” he said in a very serious tone, enveloping Akaashi in a hug. “Wait here, I’ll get you clothes.” Kuroo left the room and headed for where his drying machine was, fetching a pair of boxers as well as a shirt from inside it. When he returned, he saw Akaashi lying down on the bed on his side, in a sort of fetal position. He looked so vulnerable and small, it made Kuroo swallow a lump in his throat. He offered the other man the items of clothing, who took them with a simple but genuine “thank you.”

Kuroo lied down next to the newly dressed Akaashi. “Will you tell me what happened now?”

Akaashi turned around so he was now facing Kuroo. “Give me your phone.” He couldn’t say it out loud. It just was physically impossible for him, since uttering those words would make it a reality—it would mean acknowledging the fact that it actually happened.

Kuroo reached for his cellphone on the floor next to his bed and handed it to Akaashi. “Hey, what the fuck happened to your wrists?” he asked, his expression changing in concern upon seeing the dark red and purple spots around Akaashi’s wrists. 

Akaashi did not answer, though. He unlocked Kuroo’s phone (because it didn’t have a password) and went to Notes, creating a new one and typing what had happened. When he handed back the phone to Kuroo, he almost threw it across the room. Instead, he squeezed it really hard and left it on the bed as he stomped over to the bathroom, punching the door as he went in. Akaashi could hear Kuroo retching, no doubt feeling sick and nauseated. It was a long time before Kuroo came back out. He had a crazed look on his face, Akaashi had never seen him that angry. He threw a pair of jeans at Akaashi. 

“Put this on, we’re going out,” he commanded.

“What…? Where?”

“Where the fuck else, Akaashi?!” Kuroo snapped, “We’re going to see Bokuto.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened. “K-Kuroo, no… I can’t, Kuroo, please—“

Kuroo cut him off with more loud noises of irritation. “Fine, I’ll go by myself. You can stay here, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Akaashi got off the bed and hugged Kuroo, who had his back to him. “Please don’t do anything crazy,” he begged, “I don’t want either of you hurt.”

The taller man sighed, running a hand through his hair and trying to calm down. “I can’t promise anything,” he said, and walked out the door. 

Akaashi, alone in Kuroo’s apartment, hid under the covers of his bed. He tried to get some rest, some piece of mind after all that had happened. He also went and changed the shirt he was wearing for one that smelled more like Kuroo and less like detergent. He fell asleep quickly, too exhausted to wait for the shirt’s owner to return. 

Akaashi awoke to the smell of burnt toast. The first thing he noticed was Kuroo sitting on the bed next to him, reading the newspaper with a darkened slice of bread on his mouth. The next thing he noticed was the fucked-up state his face was in. He sat up, startled. “Kuroo, your face—“

But Kuroo just smiled at him, taking the toast out of his mouth. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Or should I say, afternoon.”

“What the fuck happened last night?” he groaned, “I fell asleep before you came back. Oh god, please tell me you didn’t…”

“Look, Akaashi, it’s totally what it looks like. I’m not gonna bullshit you here, Bokuto and I had a fistfight and we both got wrecked. I called him a rapist, we punched each other, then we sat down and talked. I told him you’d be staying with me for a while and that if he came looking for you, I would call the cops and have him arrested. If you want to see him eventually or press charges for his crime right now, it’s up to you. Oh, I also got you a bag full of clothes, so you don’t have to be wearing my shit.”

Akaashi couldn’t believe someone would go as far as to be violent with their best friend for him. He felt both happy and sad at the same time, so the only thing he could say was, “But I like your shit…” as his face turned pink and he looked down. 

Kuroo laughed at that, coughing a bit because he choked on toast. “Hey, look at me,” he said after his fit, suddenly serious, “I need you to understand that none of this was your fault, ok?” 

Akaashi nodded weakly, his eyes wet with tears yet to be spilled. “Thank you,” he whispered, taking one of Kuroo’s hands into his. Kuroo’s hands were big and rough, and his knuckles were very bruised. He brought the hand up to kiss it. “You saved me.”

Kuroo, in turn, kissed Akaashi’s forehead. “What are friends for, am I right? I’d do anything for you. I love you, man.”

He knew this was not the time for butterflies in his tummy, but Akaashi couldn’t help wanting Kuroo to mean that last line romantically. He suppressed that thought and replaced it with one that was content just having his friendship, because it wasn’t fair on Kuroo to simply throw his feelings at him after everything that happened. He technically hadn’t even broken up with Bokuto yet. 

In the end, he settled for a quiet, “I love you too, Kuroo.”

And he really did, in every sense.

 

***

 

Bokuto was late, although Akaashi wasn’t surprised at this point. It had been three weeks since the incident, and he had texted Bokuto to arrange a meeting. It was finally time to cut him loose, and the more Akaashi prolonged it, the harder it became to build up the courage to see him. 

They had agreed on seeing each other at 6:00 P.M. on the park close to the university, but it was already 6:10 and no signs of Bokuto. Akaashi sighed. This was stupid, he should’ve stayed home. 

Suddenly, he heard a familiar tune. 

[ And being apart  
Ain't easy on this love affair  
Two strangers learn to fall in love again  
I get the joy of rediscovering you  
Oh, girl, you stand by me  
I'm forever yours  
Faithfully ]

He turned around and saw Bokuto carrying a bouquet of roses in one hand and a small speaker on the other, playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” It was shocking to see Bokuto this way—he had his hair down, dark circles under his eyes, he even looked thinner. For perpetually-beefy Bokuto to look considerably thinner, these weeks must have been really harsh on him. Akaashi didn’t know what to feel. Of course there was a part of him that wanted to hold him and comfort him, but there was also the part that couldn’t forgive what he had done. 

“Keiji…” Bokuto whispered, appearing to be on the verge of tears, “You have no idea how much I regret what happened that day. What I did… What I did is unforgivable.”

“Koutarou…”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness! I know I don’t deserve it. But Keiji, I really can’t live without you. The house’s a mess, I’m a mess. And I don’t want to push all my problems onto you anymore, I want us to rebuild our relationship together.” He started bawling then, and Akaashi had to bite his lower lip to keep himself composed. Seeing Bokuto like this really hurt.

“Koutarou, I called you out here to say—“

“Please, Keiji,” Bokuto whimpered, placing the speaker and the flowers on the ground, using his hands to messily wipe his tears. “I miss you so much. So so so much.” Little hiccupy sobs erupted from deep within Bokuto, making him look so much like a small, lost child that Akaashi couldn’t hold back his own tears. He stepped closer to Bokuto, placing one hand over his shoulder to get him to look at him.

“Koutarou, I can’t accept your feelings. Not anymore,” he said, laughing humourlessly. “Things… Things have changed. I don’t—“

“Will you please not say it…?” Bokuto begged, not meeting Akaashi’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, Koutarou, but I have to.” Akaashi steeled himself, swallowing hard. Happy memories with Bokuto flashed through his mind in that instant, and he finally felt he had reached a consensus with his emotions. His relationship with Bokuto had been an important part of his life, that taught him things and helped him grow as a person. He would forever treasure those moments. But now, it was time for more growth, and he would only achieve it on his own. Bokuto was still important to him, but they simply weren’t good for each other anymore. And staying together would only lead to a toxic relationship whose poison would slowly eat away at both of them until they completely lost themselves. He cared too much about Bokuto to do that to him. Or rather, let him do it to himself.

“I don’t love you anymore. We have to break up.”

Bokuto hung his head and was silent. He bend over to pick up the roses and handed them to Akaashi. “Please keep these.”

Akaashi nodded, taking them. “I found a place of my own, and I’ll be moving in the week before classes start again. I’ll be coming to pick my stuff up soon, so if you could please pack them, I would be really grateful.”

Bokuto simply nodded, still hiding his face. 

With a deep breath, Akaashi gave Bokuto one last quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You will be okay,” he said, truly believing his now ex-boyfriend would recover from this. It would take time and effort, since they had been together for such a long time, but they would make it through somehow. 

They bid their farewells and left the park, Akaashi heading back to Kuroo’s apartment but stopping by the grocery store first.

The story of how Akaashi Keiji’s relationship came to an end wasn’t grandiose or anything like that. It was just a collection of things that happened that had to happen. And if there’s one thing he could get out of all of it, that would be that even if you’re going through incredibly hardships, a brighter, better tomorrow where you feel fulfilled and at peace with yourself will be waiting for you, but it’s up to you to pick yourself up and get there, though you shouldn't feel bad if you get some help along the way.


End file.
